


Cost-Benefit Analysis

by thirty2flavors



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Drama, F/M, Gen, Humour, Missing Scene, feat. the controversial eridium mining deal, mid-episode 3 road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirty2flavors/pseuds/thirty2flavors
Summary: “I’m sorry,” said Sasha, not sorry at all, “are youoffendedthat I underestimated exactly how much of your soul you sold to the devil?”“That’s—that’s a stupid metaphor, why would the devil accept a partial sale?”On the way to get the next Gortys upgrade, Rhys has a crisis of conscience when Sasha—and Jack—learn a bit more about his work for Hyperion.





	Cost-Benefit Analysis

**Author's Note:**

> alt. summary 1: Sasha's trying to lead him down the path of righteousness. Jack's gonna lead him down the path that rocks.
> 
> alt. summary 3: Kali Loves the Road Trip Montage, part infinity.

Rhys and Sasha’s lunchtime entertainment was watching Fiona try to scale a cliff.

Watching Fiona fail to scale a cliff, more accurately. There was a spot about six feet up that she’d been frozen to like a cat in a tree for the past few minutes, unable to find any higher footholds.

“Do you require my assistance?” rumbled Loader Bot, looking from Fiona to the peak and back again.

“No, no, I don’t,” Fiona insisted. Her limbs had begun to shake. “I’m fine, I’m—I’m thinking it through, all right?”

“You can do it!” cheered Gortys, pumping her tiny fists into the air. “Go Fiona! Show that rock who’s boss! Grr!”

Motivated by the encouragement—or perhaps the embarrassment—Fiona made a risky play for a far-away crevice and fell back to the ground with a yelp and a cloud of dust.

“She’s going to hurt herself,” Rhys observed, though he stayed seated where he was. The angle of the caravan behind him provided welcome shade from the high Pandoran sun, and anyway, it wasn’t like Fiona would stop _him_ from falling on his ass, so there was no net loss in the battle for the moral high ground.

“No pain, no gain,” said Sasha mildly, the platitude muffled through her full mouth. Cross-legged next to him, she made no move to stop Fiona either. “Gotta impress Athena.”

Athena was seated at the summit already, looking... bored, probably. It was hard to tell from such a distance, but a scan with his ECHO Eye confirmed. _**Status:** Bored._ He watched her pull a protein bar out of her pocket and bite into it, legs dangling over the edge.

Feet below, Fiona gave the wall a running leap and wound up back on her ass.

“I’m not sure it’s having the intended effect,” said Rhys.

“She’ll get there,” said Sasha, confident around her mouthful of sandwich. “Eventually.”

Rhys bit into the crust of his sandwich, doing his best not to consider the providence of any of its ingredients, and watched as Sasha tore into her lunch with a small amount of envy. Food on Pandora was equal parts unavailable and unappetizing; he’d been more or less consistently low-grade hungry the entire time he’d been here. At least Vaughn didn’t have to worry about that, what with being freakishly paralyzed and all.

Rhys cast a guilty glance over his shoulder, back into the caravan, where Vaughn was laid down on the booth. Rhys gave him a thumbs up, which went unreturned. Obviously.

“He’s fine, right?” he asked Sasha, for what must have been the nine hundredth time. “I mean, he’s probably fine.”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “If that toxin was gonna kill him, he’d probably be dead by now. Dehydration should definitely have killed him already, but it hasn’t, so—”

“Right. Yep. Okay. Thanks.” Feeling green, Rhys set his sandwich back down on his plate.

“Look at it this way,” Sasha said brightly. “Even if that drug was slowly dissolving him from the inside, unbeknownst to us—”

“Oh, God.”

“—we could all be killed by a rakk hive or a roving gang any second, so there’s really no use worrying about it.”

Rhys turned to look at her in horror and found that though Sasha had kept a straight face, he could recognize the telltale glint in her eyes that betrayed she was joking.

“Very funny,” he told her, though he was smirking now too.

“I try.” She smiled smugly, then it turned gentle. “I’m sure he’s fine, Rhys. It’ll wear off, or we’ll find some medicine, or something.”

Then she nudged him with her shoulder, a gesture of unprecedented familiarity that inexplicably sent a shockwave down his spine.

“...Right.” He cleared his throat slowly returning his gaze to Fiona and her ascent.

An accidental consequence of both Vaughn’s paralysis and Fiona’s commitment to impressing Athena was that Rhys was spending a lot of time with Sasha. Her initial standoffishness peeled away bit by bit like dried paint, revealing someone witty and smart, with a capacity for softness at odds with her dizzying but endearing enthusiasm for guns.

For someone who’d only recently wanted to shoot him and throw his corpse out of a moving vehicle, she was a lot of fun to be around. Rhys would miss her, when this was all over.

“I didn’t poison that sandwich, you know.” She eyed his uneaten food and took another bite of hers. “I mean, it might not be the Michelin star service you Hyperions are used to, but—”

“Heh, there’s… a lot of bad food on Helios, actually.”

Sasha raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“No, seriously, I mean, you can pay for the good stuff, but in the cafeteria it’s all, like, re-hyper-hydrated and you can totally tell it’s not fresh, or anything, and…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of the dangerous line forming in the middle of Sasha’s forehead. “Anyway.” He took a larger bite of his sandwich that was strictly necessary. “This is good.”

Sasha shook her head, clearly doubtful of his claim, but she didn’t press. Instead she looked away.

“Hyperion’s got a mine not far from here,” she said, pointing to the left of the caravan to a spot obscured by a rock outcropping. “Or did, anyway, dunno if it’s still in use. Opened a couple years ago. Was a big deal at the time.”

Her tone was conversational but guarded, which Rhys might have recognized as a red flag had he not been preoccupied suddenly with his own curiosity. He glanced around again, trying in vain to ascertain where they were. “Are we near the Rust Commons?”

As always, Sasha was startled when he displayed any awareness of Pandora at all. “You know it?”

“Know it?” Never one to miss a chance to boast, Rhys sat a little taller. “I closed that deal.”

There was a beat of silence, during which Sasha’s eyebrows crept further and further up her forehead. “That was _you_?”

Gratified by her awe, he adjusted the knot of his tie, eyes shut in false modesty. “Yeah, I—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Rhys’ eyes snapped open. Far from impressed, Sasha looked furious, shoving herself away from him so he could feel the full force of her glare head-on.

“Uh… what?” he squeaked.

“That’s _your_ fault?” she demanded, though he guessed it was the kind of question that didn’t need an answer.

“Um,” he said.

“Wow,” she carried on. “That’s somehow worse than I imagined. Incredible.”

Sasha said nothing more, staring into the distance, her lips twisting in agitation, her orange-painted nails tapping irritably on her elbow. Rhys got the sense that whatever walls of hers he’d broken down in the last couple days were now being hastily reconstructed with plywood.

“Oh, come on,” Rhys started, rolling his eyes at her. “Why are you pretending to be surprised? You know I worked there.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sasha, not sorry at all, “are you _offended_ that I underestimated exactly how much of your soul you sold to the devil?”

“That’s—that’s a stupid metaphor, why would the devil accept a partial sale?”

“Do you know what that mine did?” she said, turning to face him again. “Huh? Did you have any idea?”

“I read the risk assessment,” he said tersely, which was an understatement. Memorized it, more like; he’d known it inside out, once upon a time.

Somehow, this seemed to be the wrong answer, because Sasha let out a short, bitter bark of laughter. “Oh, good, so it’s not that you didn’t _know_ , it’s that you didn’t _care_. Right. That makes sense. That’s way more Hyperion.”

In some distant, dusty part of Rhys’ brain, he knew that Sasha probably had some legitimate reason for being so angry. Still, the back of his neck prickled in irritation. Why had she even brought it up if she was so mad about it?

“Oh, please. There was a ton of eridium just sitting there, this whole planet is in desperate need of industry—”

“Industry?!” Sasha scoffed. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure everyone in the town was super grateful for the _industry_ when their houses got bulldozed, or when their water supply got poisoned.”

“Town?” Rhys repeated, nose wrinkling as he sifted through long-dusty memories of reports and paperwork and proposals. “You mean the bandit camp?”

“I mean the _town_.” Sasha’s tone was sharp enough to cut. “You know, with people? Children?”

Rhys blinked at her. “That’s… not what I read.”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it’d left his mouth.

The angry fire in Sasha’s eyes flared and then turned cold. “You know, sometimes I forget you’re…” She trailed off and shook her head, biting her lip as she stared out to the horizon.

“What?” he asked, already dreading the response.

Sasha didn’t look at him. “One of them.”

“Oh,” said Rhys dumbly, wondering why that felt like such a stab in the chest. Irritation rose like a zombie out of the hurt, and he scowled. “Really? Because you certainly never let me forget it. Why even bring this up, anyway? I think you like having reasons to be pissed at me. I think it makes you feel good about yourself.”

Sasha laughed, harsh and piercing and humourless. “Maybe I wanted to see if spending time on Pandora had changed your mind at all.” She pushed herself to her feet, looming over him. “Obviously I should've known empathy was beyond a Hyperion stooge.”

Feeling as though she’d dumped a bucket of ice water on his head, Rhys said nothing. Sasha leaned down, her expression fierce, her face close enough to his that he shrank back.

“You are _so_ lucky we need you for this Gortys thing,” she hissed.

Then she stormed into the caravan, slamming the door behind her. Rhys flinched as it rattled on his hinges, then looked down at his half-eaten plate of food, his appetite disappearing in a swell of nausea that had nothing to do with the questionable sandwich. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Well. That had gone very badly, very quickly.

Why was that how everything seemed to go these days?

“Sheesh,” came a voice that Rhys was coming to regard as both familiar and unwelcome. “Someone’s touchy.”

Rhys let his hand fall away, opening his eyes to find Jack lounging on the ground as though he were sunbathing.

“Thought she was gonna deck you or something,” Jack continued. “Too bad. Could’ve gone for a brawl. Woulda spiced things up on this roadshow.”

Rhys looked over at the rest of the group. Fiona’d finally conquered the rock face, celebrating up top by knocking her boot against Athena’s while the robots cheered their support. They were all safely out of earshot.

He kept his voice low anyway. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Eh, it’s for the best. She’d’ve kicked your ass. But more to the point.” Jack flickered out of sight, rematerializing right beside Rhys in a mimic of his position. “Y’know, I actually remember this mine deal. Crazy profitable. No idea you were involved. What are the odds?”

Rhys inched to the side so that no part of the hologram overlapped with his body. “I mean, I did work for you for years,” he pointed out.

“Heh, well, you and thousands of other cogs in the corporate machine, kid.” Jack clapped him on the back, and Rhys tensed as the blue hand sailed through him weightlessly. “Betcha got a sick bonus, though, eh? Eh?”

“I… yeah.” Rhys rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand while flexing the fingers of his metal one, studying it. “Yeah, there was a bonus.”

It was, in fact, the same bonus that had paid for all his implants. Closing the deal had been the first big win of his fledgling career, a victory born of months of scheming with Vaughn and Yvette. The cybernetics, like the bonus that bought them, were cornerstones of Rhys’ five- and ten-year plans, crucial rungs in his ascent up the corporate ladder. Rhys had never regretted either before.

“She said there was a town here,” he said. “All our assessments said it was a bandit camp.”

Small population, few resources. Easily displaced. Rhys could still picture the words the way he’d read them on his screen.

“Ehh…” Jack was flippant as he shrugged. “Bandit camp, town, potato, po-tah-to.”

Rhys closed his hand into a fist. “She said there were kids.”

“Yeah, probably.” Then, like he’d seen the look on Rhys’ face, Jack added, “But, y’know... like, shitty little bandit kids who set bugs on fire and stuff, then grow up to be bigger bandits.”

A fresh wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. Rhys hid his face in his hand.

Beside him, Jack groaned theatrically. Rhys peeked between his fingers to find Jack towering over him, arms folded.

“C’mon, don’t get soft on me, cupcake. So maybe some brats drank some bad water and it slowly eroded their insides. So what? It’s Pandora. If that didn’t kill ‘em, a bandit or a psycho or one of the dozens of nightmare creatures roaming this planetary landfill would’ve.” He put on a winning smile that reminded Rhys of an animal bearing its fangs. “The important thing is we both made a ton of money.”

Rhys didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. Jack leaned in, his blue light close enough to make Rhys squint.

“Look, princess, bottom line: that mine was always gonna get built, town or no town. Someone was gonna get rich. Why not you?”

“I… guess,” said Rhys.

“That’s the spirit.” There was something feral about Jack’s grin. “You know what they say about making omelettes.”

Rhys blinked, and Jack was gone.

Barely a week ago, the mere daydream of Handsome Jack praising his work would’ve been enough to fluff up his ego and put an extra bounce in his step for the afternoon. Now, the butterflies in his stomach were being crushed in the larval stage by the memory of the disgust on Sasha’s face.

With a long, slow exhale, Rhys closed his eyes and bumped his head back against the side of the caravan. God. It’d been a weird few days, on an even weirder planet. Every time he thought he was starting to find his footing…

The clink of a hatch door shutting broke the silence around him, and Rhys opened his eyes again. He couldn’t see up to the roof of the caravan, but the long shadow on the dirt in front of him spoke for itself.

Someone had climbed to the roof. It had to be Sasha. Rhys stayed frozen where he was, tense, half-expecting her to drop something on his head—an anvil, maybe, or a grand piano.

Nothing happened. After a moment, curiosity got the better of him, and he craned his neck to look up, but the angle was too sharp for him to see her anyway. He imagined her stewing away up there, cold and furious, ticking off his character flaws on her fingers, using his photo as target practice.

Okay, so maybe he was feeling a little dramatic.

Still, Rhys decided he didn’t like this unprotected proximity to an angry Sasha. He contemplated joining Fiona and the others, but disregarded it quickly; it would only last as long as it took Fiona to ask where her sister was, and then she’d narrow her eyes at him until she ferreted out the truth. Fiona, Athena, probably even the robots—they’d take Sasha’s side right away, without even hearing the full story. Like he’d _meant_ to poison a bunch of people. Like it was all his fault for doing his job.

Only one person in their little group was likely to listen to him, the same person who always did. Pushing himself to his feet, Rhys grabbed his half-eaten lunch and went in to talk to Vaughn.

——

Seated in the booth of the caravan, Rhys gestured enough to compensate for Vaughn’s paralysis, and talked enough to compensate for Vaughn’s silence.

“...and then she stormed in here, and I just _know_ she’s gonna tell Fiona, and Fiona will make it a whole big thing, and Athena will—well, I don’t really know what Athena will do, but it’ll probably involve that terrifying glower she does, and they’re going to blow it all totally out of proportion, and it’s so _stupid_ , right?”

Vaughn grunted. Rhys took it as affirmation.

“I mean, why should I feel bad about doing my job? It’s not like we _set out_ to mess with the water basin, that’s just where all the eridium was. And bulldozing the houses? I’ve seen Pandoran architecture now, and most of these buildings look like they’d fall over if you gave them a hard shove, so, I don’t even think that counts, frankly.”

Vaughn let out a long wheeze.

“Sasha’s overreacting. She gets so—so—worked up about these things, like it’s personal, but it’s not. It’s just business. Which she doesn’t get, because she’s never had a real job in her life.”

Vaughn made a sound like a kettle about to boil.

“Sometimes business decisions just happen to have unfortunate consequences. That’s—that’s like anything. Everything’s got a cost. That’s life. Sometimes you work really hard for something, and the price is that… that…”

Vaughn stayed silent.

“That… hundreds of people you’ve never met and never thought about lose their homes and drink poisoned water.” With a noise like a deflating balloon, Rhys slumped down in the booth and let his forehead thump against the table. “Oh, God. I need to apologize, don’t I?”

Vaughn grunted again. This time, Rhys didn’t have to lie to himself about what it meant.

——

Sasha lay flat on the roof, eyes closed, hands folded neatly over her stomach. Her ears were hidden beneath a giant pair of headphones, and when Rhys poked his head out of the hatch door, she didn’t notice.

He hesitated. She certainly looked peaceful enough. Maybe she’d calmed down already. Maybe she’d forgotten all about it. Maybe an apology was unnecessary. Maybe they could both pretend the argument had never happened.

Or maybe he was a huge coward.

Sasha didn’t move, even as he climbed onto the roof properly and sat down by her feet.

“S-Sasha?” he asked, then winced at how meek it sounded. He cleared his throat to try again. “Uh, Sasha?”

Nothing. The tinny, faraway rumble of her music carried on. One of her fingers tapped out a beat on her knuckles. Rhys wondered if she was ignoring him or genuinely oblivious. Curious, he ran a quick scan.

 ** _Maliwan SonicSwirl Noise Destroyers 870X_**  
_**Music genre:** Anger_  
_**Bass:** Dropped_  
_**Volume:** Loud_  
_**Hearing loss:** Probable_

Rhys frowned. Well, that… sort of answered that. With a tiny prayer to a nonspecific god he didn’t really believe in, he reached over to tap her on the knee. “Sasha?”

Her eyes snapped open in surprise, which meant she hadn’t been ignoring him, and then narrowed dangerously, which meant she hadn’t forgotten. Rhys retracted his hand as quickly as Sasha jerked her knee away. Pushing into a sitting position well out of his reach, Sasha slid the headphones around her neck and glared.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply. “Here to brag about all the kittens you’ve stranded in trees? Kicking orphans? Taking candy from babies?”

He laughed nervously. “You know what, I _would_ take candy from a baby. A baby shouldn’t have candy. Who’s giving a baby candy?”

Sasha crossed her arms over her chest, unamused. Rhys’ awkward smile faltered.

“Ha, uh… anyway. I, um.” He brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, bracing for what was sure to be a difficult sale. He could do this. How many times had he charmed his way through a pitch? Easy. He straightened his shoulders. “Listen, Sasha, earlier, when you were giving me your, ah, constructive criticism, I realize I may not have been totally receptive.”

Sasha pursed her lips.

“I got a little defensive,” he added.

Sasha arched one intimidating eyebrow.

“Okay, I was definitely an asshole,” he amended. “You were saying things I didn’t want to hear and I… didn’t handle it well. At all. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t smile, or nod, or do anything else that might be perceived as accepting the apology. But she hadn’t shouted him down yet, or shoved him off the roof, so Rhys decided to press on.

“I wasn’t lying, about the bandit ca—about the town,” he corrected. “It really did say ‘bandit camp’ in everything I read. I didn’t know there was, you know, normal people there. Families. Kids.” He rubbed at his neck again, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Or maybe I just didn’t want to know. And… maybe it shouldn’t have mattered anyway.”

For the first time, Sasha’s posture shifted. Tiny cracks appeared in the ice of her expression.

Rhys pushed on. “That’s the thing about Helios, it’s easy to—to not know the things you don’t want to know. To keep your head down. It’s safer if you do. And the way everyone up there talks about Pandora, about the people who live here, it’s… well, no one really wants to know the truth, do they? ‘Cause work would be a lot harder if you did.” He paused, hesitating, before he sent her a weak smile. “When we came to Pandora I never expected to meet people like you and Fiona. But I should have, obviously. And I’m glad I did.”

Sasha remained wordless as he spoke, but the frost had begun to thaw. She looked down at her hands, and then away, studying the wide, empty expanse of dust and rock.

“You were wrong. It doesn’t make me feel good, being pissed at you. It just makes me feel…” Whatever it was, she couldn’t find the words. She shrugged, and hugged her arms tighter around herself. “What happens when you get back to Helios? You gonna send down a moonshot for me and Fiona?”

Rhys barked a humourless laugh. “You really don’t have to worry about that. Hyperion is not taking me back after this.”

Sasha looked at him sharply, eyes narrowed. “That the only thing stopping you?”

“What? No, I didn’t mean—I was—I just—”

“Good to know,” she said coldly, turning away again.

“No!” He reached forward, imploring her to listen, but stopped just short of touching her. “No, Sasha, look, you—you and Fiona are my friends. I wouldn’t hurt you. I wouldn’t want to. I swear.”

She studied his outstretched hand with an inscrutable expression.

“Say Hyperion did take you back, though,” said Sasha after a moment. “What then?”

“We embezzled then lost ten million dollars, so—”

“Say they would,” she repeated, firmer.

“I really don’t—”

“Say they would. Everything’s forgiven, water under the bridge. They offer you your old job—no, that promotion you wanted. Big raise, corner office, all of it. Would you take it? Now? Knowing what you do?”

Rhys opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out.

“Oooh, she’s really gotta learn not to ask questions she doesn’t want the answer to.” Jack popped into existence next to Sasha, looking between the two of them with a wicked curl of his lips. “Isn’t that right, Rhysie?”

Rhys’ mouth had gone dry. He swallowed to try and remedy it. “I... don't...”

“Be honest,” said Sasha. “Would you?”

It was difficult to ignore the blue haze beside her, or the predatory glint in Jack’s smile. Rhys swallowed again, wishing his voice hadn’t abandoned him, wishing he could think over the sound of his own pulse, wishing they’d both stop staring at him.

Sasha’s green eyes bored into his, unflinching.

“N-no,” said Rhys finally, shaky at first. “No, I… I don’t think I could.”

Jack’s grin spread even wider, and then he was gone.

Sasha said nothing. She lurched forward, scrutinizing, searching for something Rhys wasn’t even sure he had. He forced himself to sit still, to not pull back or flinch or blink, even as her breath tickled his neck.

Then, just as suddenly, she sat back on her heels. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” he repeated.

“I believe you.” The corner of her mouth twitched up in a small but encouraging smile that only made his heart beat faster.

“Oh. Right.” Too disoriented to try and look cool, he settled on nodding. “Good.”

“Yeah, good.” Sasha’s smile widened. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re definitely an idiot, but…” She sobered. “I don’t think you’re cruel.”

“All right,” said Rhys, unable to stop his own smile from spreading. “Low bar, but I’ll take it.”

Sasha’s expression was playful. “It’s hard to find a bar low enough for you capitalist schmucks. Try not to limbo under it.” Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked across to the rest of the group, still gathered by the rockface. “We need to get a move on, it’s getting late. I’ll go get the others.” She popped the hatch into the caravan and started down the ladder. “Fi better not have tired herself out, it’s her turn to drive. She always does this...”

The door clicked shut behind her. Rhys stretched out, leaning back on the palms of his hands, enjoying the pleasant buzz of a successful sale. Things with Sasha would be all right. That was good. Having Sasha's respect felt like he'd won a big prize playing a carnival game that was supposed to be rigged.

And then Jack was back, floating in the air in front of him.

Rhys sighed. He was _really_ not in the mood for another fight. “If you’re here to berate me—”

“What, ‘cause of what you said to her?” Jack was convincingly innocent as he flicked one wrist. “Nah, I get it. Telling her what she wants to hear so she doesn’t smother you with a pillow tonight… it’s pragmatic. I can respect that.”

Rhys shifted. The comfort of seconds earlier evaporated, leaving behind an itchy sense of danger.

“Besides,” Jack continued on, breezy as ever, with a disingenuous half-laugh, “we both know as soon as we finish up this little vault hunting pitstop, you’re headed back to Helios where I—we—belong.” Jack’s smile was all teeth. “Right?”

Sweat pooled under Rhys’ collar in the blazing sun, but he felt cold. He sat still.

“...Right,” he said slowly.

“Right, right. Of course. ‘Cause to be honest…” In an instant Jack was next to him, his arm slung weightlessly around Rhys’ shoulder. “...if I thought you really planned to leave me trapped in this dinky brain of yours, stranded on this dusty hellscape…” He chuckled, low enough to send a shiver down Rhys’ spine. “Dreadlocks and her itchy trigger finger would be the least of your problems.” Jack’s face was as close as Sasha’s had been, but Rhys couldn’t feel his breath. “Know what I mean?”

Rhys didn’t look at him. He tried not to move.

“Yep,” he said, voice tight.

“Glad to hear you say it, kid,” said Jack. “Always good to be on the same page, y’know?”

The crook of Jack’s arm, were it real, would have felt like a vice around Rhys’ neck. Jack laughed, and then Rhys was alone again. He watched the rest of the group as Sasha led them back to the caravan, and wondered who he was lying to.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi on tumblr: [@oodlyenough](http://oodlyenough.tumblr.com/)


End file.
